Chapter 2
The Carter mansion was already buzzing with preparations for the gala.
Florists, caterers, event planners — all swarming through the halls like ants before a storm.
I walked past them toward the bedroom I'd occupied for three years. It was at the far end of the east wing. The smallest room. Originally meant for staff.
Ryan's mother, Eleanor, had assigned it to me on my first day.
"A contract wife doesn't need the master suite," she'd said, her smile sharp as glass.
I never argued. I never fought back. Not because I was weak — but because fighting would have broken the contract. And breaking the contract would have meant my stepmother's debt defaulting, which would have destroyed my younger brother's university funding.
Everything I endured was for him.
But last month, my brother graduated. Top of his class. Full scholarship to his graduate program. He no longer needed their money.
Which meant I no longer needed their chains.
I opened my closet — sparse, practical clothes. Nothing designer. Eleanor had made it clear early on that I wasn't to "outshine" the real Carter women at events.
At galas, I wore muted colors. Simple cuts. Blended into the background like wallpaper.
Tonight would be different.
My phone buzzed.
"Everything is confirmed for tonight, Ms. Zhao." The message was from Leo, my assistant. The only person who knew both sides of my life. "The board will receive the acquisition notice at 8 PM. Press release goes out at 8:30."
I typed back: "Make sure the delivery is in person. I want to see their faces."
"Understood. Also — your dress arrived. Sent to the secondary location."
I smiled. For three years, I had played the mouse. Tonight, I would be the cat.
A knock at my door interrupted my thoughts.
"Ashley." Eleanor's voice was syrupy, the tone she used when she wanted something.
I opened the door.
She stood there in a silk robe, her hair in rollers, looking me up and down.
"I need you to manage the seating tonight. Sophia forgot to confirm the arrangements, and everything is wrong."
Of course. Even on my last day, I was still the help.
"I'll handle it," I said.
Eleanor nodded curtly, then paused. "Also — try to look decent tonight. Victoria will be there. I don't want people comparing and feeling sorry for Ryan."
There it was. The casual cruelty she wore like perfume.
"Don't worry," I said evenly. "No one will pity Ryan after tonight."
She frowned, uncertain how to take that, then waved her hand dismissively and walked away.
I closed the door and leaned against it.
Three years of biting my tongue. Three years of swallowing their poison.
After tonight, I would never swallow again.
At five o'clock, I left the mansion through the service entrance with a small overnight bag. No one noticed. No one ever noticed me leave.
I drove to a private apartment downtown — the one I'd purchased under my company's name.
Inside, hanging on the closet door, was a gown.
Deep crimson. Custom-made by a designer who owed me a favor. Worth more than everything in my Carter mansion closet combined.
I showered, styled my hair, and applied makeup with the precision of someone preparing for war.
When I looked in the mirror, I didn't recognize the woman staring back.
No — that wasn't right.
I recognized her perfectly. This was who I'd always been underneath.
The woman the Carters had never bothered to see.
My phone rang. Leo.
"Ms. Zhao, there's a complication."
My hand paused on my earring. "What kind?"
"Ryan Carter hired a private investigator. He's close to identifying The Ghost. If he finds out before tonight—"
"He won't," I said firmly. "Not before 8 PM."
"There's more," Leo hesitated. "Victoria Lane — she's not just his girlfriend. She's been working with your stepmother. They've been trying to locate your birth mother's will."
My blood went cold.
My birth mother's will — the document that proved my inheritance of the Zhao Group empire.
The document my stepmother had hidden from me since I was sixteen.
"How close are they?" I asked.
"Close enough to be dangerous."
I clenched my jaw. The timeline had just moved up.
Tonight wasn't just about revenge anymore. It was about survival.
Florists, caterers, event planners — all swarming through the halls like ants before a storm.
I walked past them toward the bedroom I'd occupied for three years. It was at the far end of the east wing. The smallest room. Originally meant for staff.
Ryan's mother, Eleanor, had assigned it to me on my first day.
"A contract wife doesn't need the master suite," she'd said, her smile sharp as glass.
I never argued. I never fought back. Not because I was weak — but because fighting would have broken the contract. And breaking the contract would have meant my stepmother's debt defaulting, which would have destroyed my younger brother's university funding.
Everything I endured was for him.
But last month, my brother graduated. Top of his class. Full scholarship to his graduate program. He no longer needed their money.
Which meant I no longer needed their chains.
I opened my closet — sparse, practical clothes. Nothing designer. Eleanor had made it clear early on that I wasn't to "outshine" the real Carter women at events.
At galas, I wore muted colors. Simple cuts. Blended into the background like wallpaper.
Tonight would be different.
My phone buzzed.
"Everything is confirmed for tonight, Ms. Zhao." The message was from Leo, my assistant. The only person who knew both sides of my life. "The board will receive the acquisition notice at 8 PM. Press release goes out at 8:30."
I typed back: "Make sure the delivery is in person. I want to see their faces."
"Understood. Also — your dress arrived. Sent to the secondary location."
I smiled. For three years, I had played the mouse. Tonight, I would be the cat.
A knock at my door interrupted my thoughts.
"Ashley." Eleanor's voice was syrupy, the tone she used when she wanted something.
I opened the door.
She stood there in a silk robe, her hair in rollers, looking me up and down.
"I need you to manage the seating tonight. Sophia forgot to confirm the arrangements, and everything is wrong."
Of course. Even on my last day, I was still the help.
"I'll handle it," I said.
Eleanor nodded curtly, then paused. "Also — try to look decent tonight. Victoria will be there. I don't want people comparing and feeling sorry for Ryan."
There it was. The casual cruelty she wore like perfume.
"Don't worry," I said evenly. "No one will pity Ryan after tonight."
She frowned, uncertain how to take that, then waved her hand dismissively and walked away.
I closed the door and leaned against it.
Three years of biting my tongue. Three years of swallowing their poison.
After tonight, I would never swallow again.
At five o'clock, I left the mansion through the service entrance with a small overnight bag. No one noticed. No one ever noticed me leave.
I drove to a private apartment downtown — the one I'd purchased under my company's name.
Inside, hanging on the closet door, was a gown.
Deep crimson. Custom-made by a designer who owed me a favor. Worth more than everything in my Carter mansion closet combined.
I showered, styled my hair, and applied makeup with the precision of someone preparing for war.
When I looked in the mirror, I didn't recognize the woman staring back.
No — that wasn't right.
I recognized her perfectly. This was who I'd always been underneath.
The woman the Carters had never bothered to see.
My phone rang. Leo.
"Ms. Zhao, there's a complication."
My hand paused on my earring. "What kind?"
"Ryan Carter hired a private investigator. He's close to identifying The Ghost. If he finds out before tonight—"
"He won't," I said firmly. "Not before 8 PM."
"There's more," Leo hesitated. "Victoria Lane — she's not just his girlfriend. She's been working with your stepmother. They've been trying to locate your birth mother's will."
My blood went cold.
My birth mother's will — the document that proved my inheritance of the Zhao Group empire.
The document my stepmother had hidden from me since I was sixteen.
"How close are they?" I asked.
"Close enough to be dangerous."
I clenched my jaw. The timeline had just moved up.
Tonight wasn't just about revenge anymore. It was about survival.